I dreamt that the KGB had evicted me. “Your time is up,” they said man-handling me from my apartment. The owner greeted me at the entrance and said, "Here's your new landlord, now you will live on Paveletskaya". I was upset because I didn’t have time to pack my belongings, yet it was nice to get a new residence so promptly!
My new Landlord has a car and I sit on the rear seat, a large shaggy dog sits next to me accompanied by a small sleeping bird, which appears in my hands. In my backpack I find a sock and snuggle the bird into it so it wouldn’t freeze. At first I didn't like the dog; its messy fur and smell repulsed me, but for some reason I understand that this is now my dog, and I have to embrace it.
The new apartment reveals a labyrinth with endless mahogany bookshelves and stained-glass windows. To open the window you need to pass through several layers of coloured glass. While I was airing the apartment, the dog’s disgusting fur disappears and becomes smooth and shiny like a polished obsidian. The animal starts to look like an ancient deity and evokes within me the desire to make a sacrifice, but I didn’t know what kind.
Meanwhile, the bird wakes and flies off, as I pursuit her I come across my brother whom I’ve not seen for 15 years. His face, cold and angry is exactly as I remember from the last time he beat me. “That’s too much for today,” I thought; he immediately evaporated into the air.
I heard some singing and through the window, I saw a woman dressed in a light golden sari with hair flowing loosely in the cold wind. I shout to her “Do you want my winter jacket? You can't go out like this in winter!”. Next to her lies a half-naked man in a puddle and he shouts in response, “And I have COVID-19, so what?! The song is warming! ”. They begin to sing Indian hymns in unison, the Garden Ring road is rustling in the background.
My bird disappeared without a trace, my dog is reclining in the room, her eyes are closed and she sees everything.